


Exile

by danveresque



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27717824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danveresque/pseuds/danveresque
Summary: Nile watches her friends and considers exile and immortality.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia & Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 10
Kudos: 115





	Exile

Nicky was leaning against the fridge, one hand idly resting on his stomach, the other scratching at his jaw, a small quiet smile on his face as he watched Joe chopping onions, listening to his quiet chatter. Nicky looked as if he could watch Joe forever. As if he _had_ been watching Joe forever. Joe stepped back from the onions with a gasp, dropping his knife and shutting his eyes tight, grimacing in pain. Nicky went to him immediately, slapping away Joe’s hands before he could rub his eyes, offering quiet admonishment and soft touches. 

Onion juice had to be the least pain Joe had felt in his life and yet there Nicky was leading him to the sink with urgency, splashing water in his eyes, both of them murmuring and quietly laughing the whole time. Nile got it. She understood why Booker had done what he had. He didn’t have this. An eternity of having what Joe and Nicky had made eternity seem too short. 

Nile looked across at Andy who had a somewhat sad smile on her face, filled with happiness for them, tainted by her own grief. She shook her head. “Big baby.”

“This is painful!” Joe yelled from the kitchen, waving a hand in the direction of his face. Nicky grinned next to him, pulling him in for a gentle healing kiss. 

“Is dinner gonna be ready anytime soon? Now that I can actually die, hunger isn’t the thing I want to die from,” Andy said.

“Funny,” Joe responded, looking unamused. 

It wasn’t funny. What _was_ funny was how effortlessly Nile could read Nicky’s expression as it in no uncertain terms told Andy, _not now_ , as if her newfound mortality was nowhere as worrying as Joe’s change in mood. 

Andy snorted, unaffected. Nile turned towards her, quietly telling Andy, “Still think we shouldn’t have sent him away. He should be here. He should...have this...whatever this is.”

“He does,” Andy said, not looking at Nile. “We’ll be here when he comes back.”

“You won’t,” Nile said. “Not in a hundred years. Not in this job.”

Andy stared at her, as if only now remembering she was dying by the second. Nile looked back at Joe and Nicky. Nicky’s back was to the living room and he was blocking the sight of Joe, their quiet murmuring indecipherable. How easily they could be alone in plain sight. 

“It’s hard to believe they killed each other. I mean, look at them,” Nile said. 

“Hmm,” Andy agreed, looking and nodding. “They need to get a room.”

Nile laughed, Andy grinning as Nicky glanced back, looking mildly amused. Nile caught a glance of Joe, the corner of his mouth up in a small smile too. It was hard to imagine the two of them ever hurting each other. They’d probably thought that about Booker too though. Funny how life could change things, particularly a life that seemed never-ending.

O

Nile awoke with a start from where she’d fallen asleep on the couch. It wasn’t a dream about Quynh this time. It was a shout and it came from one of the bedrooms, Nicky and Joe’s to be specific. Nicky was trying to speak quietly, calmly. Joe wasn’t interested. He came storming down the hallway into the living room, stopping when he saw Nile staring at him in question.

“Hey,” she said. “Everything okay?”

Joe smiled, making his face look taut and tense. “Everything is fine.”

Nicky followed right behind with a tight expression of his own. “We are actually arguing and not finished. Joe?”

“I am finished,” Joe said, all serious and no smiles. “I am so very finished with this, Nicolo.”

Nicky said something, quiet, Italian. There was something both gentle and urgent in his words. Joe didn’t react well. He reared up like a snake about to bite and then twisted away from Nicky to kick at a wooden sideboard, hard enough to crack one of the doors into two. Another kick dismantled the door completely. All the while, Nicky watched as he stood still and quiet next to the chaos. 

“What the fuck is this?” Andy asked, standing at the head of the hallway in a long black floral kimonoesque dressing gown that made Nile look twice. 

“It’s fucking nothing,” Joe said, stalking over to where his jacket lay, putting it on with far too much violence for a pretty nice jacket. 

“We are not done,” Nicky said, infuriatingly calm. 

Joe glared in his direction, though it came off harmless, his upset shining through brighter. Without another word he stomped out of the front door, slamming it shut behind him. 

Nicky stood there bristling for a moment as if he might finish the sideboard with a kick of his own but then his body sagged, as if the strings holding him up had been cut. Andy went to him, squeezing his shoulder and telling him, “I’ll make some tea.”

“I do not want tea,” he said, words measured, loaded with weariness.

“You’re having some fucking tea,” Andy said, floating away, looking far too at ease for a newly made mortal. Nicky in the meantime sat down heavily next to Nile, looking an odd combination of wide-awake and tired at the same time.

“So…” Nile said. “That looked intense.”

Nicky snorted, the corner of his mouth lifting in amusement. “Intense. That is accurate.”

“What’s going on?” Nile asked. 

“Nothing,” Nicky said with a shrug. “Nothing is going on. He’s upset about Booker, but he won’t talk about it.”

“Sometimes people don’t want to talk,” Nile said.

“Sure,” Nicky said with a shrug. “You can do that. Not talk, let it fester until you make mistakes like...trying to find a cure for immortality, your own and your friends. We are family. Booker is family. He should have said something about how he felt. That’s what being a family is.”

“Not always,” Nile said. “Being a family also means keeping all kinds of shit to yourself to keep the peace, to keep it nice. Looking after people by lying to them, keeping things from them. Loving people in...really weird ways. Families don’t have to talk. Families just have to be there when you need them.”

Nicky was frowning at her, as if he was seeing her for the first time. Smiling, he looked in Andy’s direction and rattled off something in a language that seemed out of Nile’s grasp. Andy laughed, looking at Nile with a bright smile. She looked good when she smiled, when she let go of the weight of the world for a second. 

“What?” Nile asked, already smiling at the answer she hadn’t even heard. 

Andy turned back to her tea-making. “He says you give good advice. For a baby.”

“I could kill you with a toothpick. I am not a baby,” Nile said, giving Nicky her most threatening look. 

“Comparatively speaking you are not even a glint in someone’s eye,” Nicky told her.

“Shut up,” Nile said, turning her nose up at the idea and giving him a light punch on the arm. She nodded towards the door. “You gonna go after him? Get him to talk some more?”

Nicky slid down lower in his chair and shook his head. “I think now I will be quiet and he can talk if he wants to.”

“Is that how it’s lasted so long?” Nile asked. “You making him talk, him storming out? You giving him the silent treatment, him making it up to you?”

Nicky gave her an altogether different wide-eyed look. _Busted_ , she thought. A little haughtily, he said, “You ask too many questions.”

O

It was late when Joe came home. Nile, a light sleeper by nature, had woken up at the opening and closing of the front door and then the practised silence that followed. Also an eavesdropper by nature, she poked her head out of the room just enough to see Joe standing in the living room as if he’d walked miles and was ready to drop. 

Nicky went to him, embracing him, bringing him in so close it was as if he thought he could hide Joe within himself completely. Joe ducked his head, pressed his forehead to Nicky’s shoulder, held onto him and just stood there for the longest time, both their bodies slightly rocking together in perfect synchronicity.

After a while, they pulled back and just seemed to stand there looking into each other’s eyes. Nile could easily believe they were talking right into each other’s heads, into each other's souls. Maybe one day they might even lose their immortality at the same time and have a chance to grow old together.

But what about those without an immortal love? 

Nile thought of Booker. Thought of Andy. They both wore the same cloak of sadness. It had nothing to do with immortality. It had everything to do with being alone. Nile didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to see herself cloaked in that same loneliness. She wanted _this_ , what Joe and Nicky had. 

Joe said something she couldn’t decipher, but the way he said _Nicolo_ told her it could only be _I love you_.

“Come here,” Nicky said, bringing Joe in for a sweet kiss, before slinging an arm around him and taking him towards the kitchen to feed him. 

Nile closed her door and leaned against it thinking of Booker, thinking of all the times he must have seen them together, wishing he had something like that, someone by his side, someone more than a friend, more than family. Nile imagined herself, hundreds of years old, alone. Exile seemed pointless when immortality came with its own very special punishment. 

O

_“You and Book, it's different. Nicky knows you're hurting. I know you're hurting.”_

Nile woke up frowning. Those words were too clear and too close. It was strange. She’d been dreaming of Booker, and then of Quynh, and then Andy was speaking clear as a bell smack bang in the middle of Nile's head. Only now when Nile woke up, the voices were muffled in the near distance.

Nile got up, quietly making her way from her bedroom. She passed Nicky and Joe’s room on the way. The door was open and she could see Nicky in bed, lying on his stomach in an exhausted heap, face squashed into his pillow, one foot hanging off the bed, the blankets in danger of slipping to the floor and taking his modesty with them. 

She kept moving, staying out of sight of the living room, following the smell of cigarette smoke on the air, hearing Joe mutter, “If you die-”

“I’ve done a lot of dying,” Andy said. “This time it’ll stick. That’s the only difference. Talk to me about Booker. So I can tell Nicky you’re okay. Because if you’re not okay, he’s not okay. That’s how it works, right?”

More quiet followed. Joe sounded lost in thought when he said, “Do you know, every time I’ve seen Nicky die, I’ve wondered if this is it, if this is the last time. It’s not enough. I need more time. I look at him and forever is not long enough. Booker should have said something, if he was struggling. He played with our lives. _You_ could have died.”

“But I didn’t,” she said. “And he came back to us in the end."

"He betrayed us, Andy," Joe said quietly. "For what? A chance to die?"

"If Booker had what you and Nicky have, he’d be trying to find a way to live forever," Andy said. "It's hard going it alone. You have no idea."

"You want me to apologise for that?" Joe asked.

"I am not saying that," Andy said firmly.

"Then what? We're supposed to feel bad about it?" Joe asked. "You know loss, Andy. So does Book. All I know is Nicky. All I know is when he dies, those seconds I'm waiting for him to wake might as well be centuries. Every second is too long and terrifying. The thought of losing him-"

"Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all," Andy said, surprising Nile with the lightness in her voice.

Joe snorted. "Tennyson didn't know shit."

"Book fucked up," Andy said. "But you have a hundred years to let it go. He's your brother, Joe.”

"He’s an asshole.”

“And you love him,” Andy said, her voice soft. Joe said nothing, but he must have indicated he agreed because Andy said, “So...we okay?”

“No,” Joe said. “Because you’re still dying. That is not okay.”

“If it’s any consolation, I intend to grow old, as disgracefully as possible. Wrinkles. White hair. All of it. So don’t go planning a funeral just yet,” Andy said. “It’s not over.”

“What are you doing?” Nicky whispered from directly behind Nile. She jumped and turned to see him standing there with his hair a mess and eyes barely open, mouth pursed in confusion and one hand holding his blanket around his waist. 

Nile pointed in the direction of the living room, mouthing _Joe and Andy_. Nicky scowled at her confusion. 

“We woke the baby,” Joe said, walking into the hallway with Andy in tow.

“Who’s the baby?” Nile frowned at them. Pointing at Nicky, she asked, “Is he the baby? I better not be the baby.”

“Great, you made her cranky.” Joe reached for Nicky, grabbing him around his waist. Frowning in Nicky’s direction, he said, “Nicky, back to bed. You look terrible.”

Nicky, still looking half asleep, allowed himself to be herded back into his and Joe’s bedroom, leaving Andy watching Nile with a small smile. 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” Nile said. “You are all just very very loud. Very old and very loud.”

“Go to bed, kid,” Andy said, walking back to the living room, still wearing that silky kimono thing which was trailing behind her, making her look like some kind of strange exotic bird.

Nile called out after her, “You gonna do that whole sitting awake in an armchair all night thing? Kind of weird, you know. Also, sleep is good for regenerating, you know that right?”

“Go to bed!” Andy yelled. 

In the room next to hers, Joe and Nicky didn’t even try to hide their laughter. Nile thought about the two of them and hundreds and hundreds of years of love and laughter.

And what it was to live forever without that love and without that laughter.

O

Booker didn’t answer the phone immediately and when he did, there was only heavy, sullen silence. Nile could almost see him, his drawn and miserable face. It was so clear in her mind it was startling. 

“Most people say hello,” she said quietly. 

“We are not most people,” he responded after a while, his words slow and measured. “We shouldn’t be talking. Exile means exile.”

“You didn’t have to pick up,” Nile said. She heard a snort and imagined the wry smile that went with it. “How are you?”

The sound of a slosh inside a bottle followed, a quick drink and then an answer. “Just great.”

“They already miss you,” Nile said. Booker answered with a quiet chuckle. She wanted to say she missed him too, but she’d known him for what amounted to a drop of water in an ocean of time. Still...the lack of him, it bothered her skin deep. “Where are you?”

Booker took his time to answer before telling her, “Dublin. Maybe then France.”

“We’re-”

“Don’t,” Booker said roughly. “I don’t need to know.”

Nile nodded mutely, the silence on the line heavy with guilt and despair that shouldn’t have been this easy to recognise. 

“It won’t be a hundred years,” Nile said. “They look like they’re gonna cave any second, forget a hundred years.”

Quiet followed and then a huff of laughter. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

They lapsed into silence, silence but for the ticking of Booker’s brain. Finally, he asked her, “Why do you care? What I did...it put everyone in harm’s way. Including you.”

“I get it,” she said after some quiet consideration. “Why you did what you did. Doesn’t make it right, but I get it. Besides. Family lets all kinds of shit slide, right?”

He laughed at that. It was a good sound coming from Booker. Nile smiled. Booker told her, “A hundred years...that was a kindness. I deserved worse.”

“Well...you’ve got some time to think about what you did,” Nile said. “Just, don’t get too comfortable.”

Booker responded with another sloshing sound of drink and despair. His breath was loud in Nile’s ear, an odd comfort. “How is she?”

A flicker of movement alerted Nile that _she_ was standing just outside the bedroom door, her quiet cool gaze on Nile, her expression a lesson in concealment. 

“Taking everything in her stride,” Nile said, looking at Andy. 

“Hmm. That’s Andy,” Booker said. “Infuriating.”

“I agree. She _is_ infuriating,” Nile said, grinning when Andy cracked a smile. 

“Look after her,” Booker said, his voice sounding rough. “She won’t let you. She’ll make it difficult as hell. Don’t let that stop you.”

Nile nodded, quietly telling him, “I won’t.”

Before Nile could think of saying anything else, Booker hurriedly told her, “I have to go. You probably shouldn’t call me again.”

“But you’ll pick up if I do, right?” Nile asked before he could hang up. 

It seemed to throw him, silencing him. When he spoke it was to say, “Take care, Nile.”

“See you soon, Booker,” she replied.

He hung up, but after a prolonged silence. Nile smiled, putting her phone away and nodding at Andy. “Eavesdropping? Not cool.”

Andy walked into the room. Her silky black dressing gown with its pattern of large pink and green flowers was open, revealing that she had pretty much spent an entire day in her black t-shirt and black yoga pants. Not that it mattered. If anyone deserved a day in their pyjamas it was Andy.

“You do get what exile means, right?” she asked, sitting down at the opposite end of Nile’s bed, leaning against the footboard. 

Nile nodded. “It means waiting. Until he comes back. Which he will. Soon. Right?”

Andy sighed. She shook her head at whatever thoughts she was going to keep in that stubborn head of hers. When she looked at Nile it was with a warm smile, albeit a little amused. “You’re bossy. I like it.”

Nile laughed and leaned back against the pillows behind her. “Booker was the last person you found before me. Do you think that means somewhere down the line we might find someone else?”

Andy shrugged. “Maybe. Until you, I thought we were it.”

“You think we’ll ever know why we’re like this?” Nile asked, looking over Andy, unable to imagine all she had seen in her time.

“I don’t know,” Andy said. “I’m six thousand years old and I still don’t know shit about why we’re like this.”

Nile stared at Andy, her brain caught on _six thousand years_. Kingdoms rose, fell and vanished in less time. Nile thought of her brother, her mother. She was dead to them now. One day, they would be gone for good and she wouldn’t even have the comfort of knowing they were alive and well. She didn’t want to think of it, not right now. The dark hole of grief it opened up every time she did think about it was too much along with this strange new life.

“What?” Andy’s voice seemed to catch, making her sound old. _She’s ancient_ , Nile thought, like a pyramid, a lost language, a fact and a mystery wrapped in one. _I don’t want to be where you are_.

Mustering a smile, Nile said, “Six thousand years old. That means you must have a lot of stories. Any funny ones?”

Andy looked down, grinning. Nodding, she looked back at Nile and said, “A few.”

Nile sunk back against the pillows and sighed. “Tell me.”

**Author's Note:**

> My TOG glee is contained [hither](https://danveresque.tumblr.com/tagged/togtalk/) \- [d](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danveresque/profile)


End file.
